


Gracious

by postapocalyptic_cryptic



Series: Febuwhump 2021 Nonsense [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Legends: Republic (Comics)
Genre: FebuWhump2021, First Meetings, Force Exhaustion (Star Wars), Gen, Hurt/Comfort, I will fight anyone on this, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jedi as Found Family (Star Wars), Jon Antilles is Not Doing So Hot, Knol is Jon's big sister and Fay is their mom, Poisoning, Reluctant Caretaker Trope, Seizures, The Force, Whump, obligatory thanks to blackkat for introducing me to Jon lmao
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 13:34:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29190117
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/postapocalyptic_cryptic/pseuds/postapocalyptic_cryptic
Summary: In which Knol agrees to do a job with Fay, but Fay wants to bring her new pathetic life form along. In which Jon overestimates himself and underestimates the effects of poison.FebuWhump Day 7 - Poisoned
Relationships: Jon Antilles & Fay, Jon Antilles & Knol Ven'nari
Series: Febuwhump 2021 Nonsense [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2143062
Comments: 3
Kudos: 22
Collections: febuwhump 2021





	Gracious

**Author's Note:**

> Jon:  
> Knol: weirdo (affectionate)

To say that Knol’s not thrilled to meet Fay’s new pet project would be an understatement. He’s one of An’ya’s and Fay’s already warned her to be ‘gentle, Knol, he’s only a child.’ 

Yeah, he probably is only a child. A child with a deadly skill set and a hell of a lot of issues. Knol _really_ doesn’t want to deal with teen angst on today’s mission. 

“You know, you were a teenager only a few years ago,” Fay chides, cresting the hill and approaching Knol. 

Knol very nearly startles. Fay has a tendency to continue conversations that never began, something which has never ceased to unsettle Knol. On this fine morning, she’s got company. Fay is being trailed by a tall, thin shadow in a dark robe that borders on ridiculous in its size. She can’t see the kid’s face but this must be-

“Knight Jon Antilles,” Fay introduces, stepping aside and ushering the kid towards Knol. He’s not having it, and Fay sets a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Jon, take that hood off, will you? You look like a wraith.” 

Jon hesitates, but reaches up to pull his hood back. He _is_ young, perhaps eighteen or nineteen, but his face is cut through with several old scars. His dark hair is tied up in a sloppy knot at the base of his skull and he regards Knol like one might regard a particularly large bomb. “Hello,” he murmurs. 

“Hey, there,” she says, overly bright. He takes a half-step back, glancing quickly to Fay before aiming that _stare_ back at her. Knol rolls her eyes. “I’m Knol. Why is your name Jon Antilles?”

Jon’s eyes widen and he looks to Fay again, clearly unsure of how to respond. Knol snickers. Fay doesn’t find her antics so amusing, though, and shoots her a warning look. 

“Alright,” Fay says. “Now that we’re all introduced, let’s talk strategy. We need to get into that warehouse and out again with the codes without being noticed.”

* * *

They’re noticed. They’re _so_ noticed it’s not even funny. Knol deflects a shot back at the bounty hunter who fired it and grabs Jon by the arms, dragging him out the doors. Of course, the kid chooses _now_ to start fighting her, thrashing and kicking and _biting._

“Kid, let’s go, we’ve got to get out of here,” she growls, yanking him out of the warehouse and dumping him on the ground just outside. He slumps into the grass and she kneels next to him, grabbing his chin and tipping his face up to look in his eyes. 

He jerks as soon as she touches him, trying to back up and panicking when he hits the side of the building. “Let go,” he snarls, trying to kick her again.

“Jon. _Jon._ Kid, it’s still me. Let me get a look at you.” She takes a foot to the knee and yelps. “ _Jon!_ Kid, you’ve got to calm down.” 

Finally, he relaxes enough for her to push his hair back and look in his eyes. They’re cloudy and unfocused, pupils huge and nearly swallowing the hazel irises. His nose is bleeding and he’s startlingly hot to the touch. _Fuck._ Myrilian bounty hunters don’t kriff around with fast-acting poison. 

“Fay,” she calls back into the warehouse. “We need to go _now!”_

“A little busy, darling,” comes the reply, accompanied by a crash and a wave of Force that goes over her and leaves her fur standing on end. A bounty hunter screams. 

“Alright, Antilles, it’s just you and me,” she mutters, getting her hands under the kid’s arms. He’s barely aware right now; there’s no way he’s walking out under his own power. 

He might not be in such a bad way if he’d chilled the fuck out after he’d been poisoned, like Fay and Knol _told_ him to, but he hadn’t. He’d spent the last twenty minutes doing his damndest to be everywhere at once, hopping from place to place with that weird-ass teleporting thing and taking down bounty hunters and droids left and right. He’d be spent even if he _hadn’t_ been poisoned. 

Well, there’s nothing to be done about it now, Knol reflects, pulling the kid to his feet and dodging a clumsy punch. “Come on, Antilles, Fay’s about to blow the place and I don’t want to go down with it.” 

“Le’go,” Jon slurs, tumbling forward as soon as he’s on his feet. “Don’ _touch_ me…” 

“We’re past that,” she says, scooping him up into a bridal carry. “Fay, any day now!” 

Right on cue, Fay comes sprinting out of the warehouse, blonde hair streaming behind her. “I’m here,” she says, not even out of breath. _Show off._

“Good,” Knol says, and starts running. 

They make it a hundred yards before Fay turns and raises her open hands to the warehouse, closing them to fists and bringing the whole thing down on itself. Knol barely notices, preoccupied with the way Jon has started seizing in her arms, labored breaths giving way to desperate, choking gasps. 

Fay steps to her, all business. “Set him down,” she commands. 

Knol does as she’s told, laying Jon down on the grass. Fay drops to her knees next to him, placing her hands on his head as he twitches and writhes and grinds his teeth. The poor kid’s pale as death and Knol balls her hands into fists as Fay pulls his head and shoulders into her lap. 

She closes her eyes and bends over Jon, dropping into a Healing Trance. Almost immediately, the convulsions stop, but so does Jon’s breathing. Knol bites her tongue as Fay sinks deeper, flattening her hands against his temples. “Come on, Jon,” she coaxes. “Come back to me.” Jon jolts and takes a deep, spasming breath. “There you go. Come on back.” 

Knol kneels next to them as Fay works, eyes closed and expression serene. She goes quickly, and Knol can feel the care with which she stitches Jon back together, expelling the poison and healing the worst of the injuries he’d collected. 

At last, after a few tense, silent minutes, Jon’s eyes slide open. He blinks up at Fay, disoriented. “Mm?” 

“There you are,” she says, smiling. She smoothes back a few loose pieces of his hair and takes his hand in hers. “I believe you scared Knol,” she laughs. 

“Ha, funny,” Knol scoffs, rising to her feet. 

To Fay’s dismay, Jon tries to follow her. When Fay protests, he gets an elbow underneath himself and croaks, “‘M fine, we should get moving.”

“Uh-uh,” Knol says, leaning back down and putting a hand on his shoulder. He starts, but she stays steady, pushing him back down into Fay’s lap. It doesn’t take much effort. “Stay down, kid. You’re exhausted.” And still warm to the touch. Even with Fay’s work, he’ll need some time to recover. 

Jon goes down, but the look on his face could kindly be described as panic mixed with confusion. He looks from Fay to Knol and back again and Fay sighs, setting her hands on his shoulders. 

“Rest, Jon,” she says. “Force knows you need it.” Then, to Knol, “Come here.” 

Knol obeys, stepping to Fay, and is rewarded with a hand on her hip and a rush of warmth that sets her broken finger and mends the bruises and cuts she’d accumulated during the fight. Knol nods in thanks, then turns her gaze to the smoldering remains of the warehouse. 

“I’ll go and get the equipment,” she offers. “We can set up camp here, stay the night, leave in the morning?” 

Fay nods, thanks visible in her eyes and tangible in the Force. Jon relaxes a bit. Knol still makes him nervous. 

She makes for the hills.

* * *

By the time she returns, backpack on and duffle bag in her hand, the sun is dipping below the mountains. Fay is sitting exactly where she was when Knol left, legs crossed, meditating. Jon is out cold with his head in her lap and his stupid cloak covering him like a blanket. Knol sets her things down a few meters away and begins assembling the tent. It should be big enough for the three of them, and she’s got rations and some firebricks as well. 

It’s quick, easy work, and by the time darkness falls, they’ve got a tent and a fire. Knol sits next to Fay, leaving some space in case the kid wakes up and decides it’s freak-out time again. He seems pretty dead to the world, though, so she hazards an attempt at conversation. 

“Where did you find him?” she asks Fay.

Fay hums, idly twisting a strand of Jon’s hair around her finger. “Lost,” is all she says. “He was lost and alone and hurting, and he agreed to come with me.” 

“Of course.” Why does she even bother asking direct questions?

Fay chuckles, turning to face her. Her hair looks unreal in the firelight, flickering and changing quicker than the flames. “What do you think of him?”

“He’s a good kid,” Knol admits. “Got a _hell_ of a right hook on him.” 

Fay laughs again, clear and bright and short. “That he does. That he does.” She turns back to the fire, smiling softly. 

“Seriously, though. Who the fuck named him ‘Jon Antilles?’”

**Author's Note:**

> Okey-dokey so we are not posting Febuwhump in order.  
> I hope you all enjoyed and, as always, don't be afraid to hit me up below or on tumblr @postapocalyptic-cryptic-fic or @chiafett. May the Force be with you!


End file.
